a small critical moment
by theamck
Summary: Judith asks Tommy a question and he is surprised by his answer.


More **Critical Moments**

** (This Helen is the "middle" one, whom I found cold, critical, and not very sympathetic.)**

After that first time that Barbara slept at Lynley's house, they found it easier to work there on a case, reviewing their findings, sharing their thoughts while spreading out their files and papers in his spacious living room. And since they often worked late, it was simpler for Barbara to go upstairs and sleep in that comfortable bed, shower with those lovely soaps and shampoos. She even left a few articles of clothing in the chest in the guest room and she kept the pajama top Lynley had loaned her the first time she'd slept there. The pleasure of wearing it was another secret in the store of her love for him.

Denton was used to giving her breakfast, having bought her favorite strong tea, and he was quietly pleased at the way Barbara could get his lordship to laugh, to seem more relaxed. Her conviction that there would never be another relationship made her revel in their growing friendship. But she was also becoming more familiar with his darker side. She had seen, over their years working together, what she called his "touchiness", the simmering anger under the veneer of his upbringing. But she had never seen his rage until the case of the golden Koran. She knew that DI Brennan was getting under his skin, the two of them in total disagreement about which was more important, getting poor Narima deported or finding who had killed her husband. But Professor Blackwell was the man they thought was helping them – it was another betrayal, to find that it was he who had killed two people and was more than willing to kill another, all for the holy book for which he lusted. He had used the two of them. It was rage, an explosion of rage that made Lynley throttle the professor, threatening to throw him off the balcony and he might have if she hadn't stopped him. And Brennan was watching, glaring. So they had that one moment, when the Koran was found where she suspected it would be, and he hugged her tightly, calling her a "genius!" As they stood there, glowing with success, the men, clearly police, came striding across the field to arrest her boss. It had been Brennan, of course, who had accused him.

She would never have admitted it to Linley but she missed him terribly during those months of his suspension. She had been assigned at random to various inspectors, feeling like "a bad check", bounced from officer to officer. She always did a competent job, and the bosses were pleased with her work, but it wasn't the same, and while she could understand why he called or texted her so rarely, it emphasized what she felt she had lost. So she was delighted when he called to ask if he could come to see her in that grim part of the country where she was assigned to work with Fiona Knight. She had been surprised to meet a very pregnant DI Knight, but found it easy to work with a woman, at least this one. She told Lynley that Fiona was a good boss, but…..and before she knew it, she told him that she missed working with him. His grin told her how pleased he was to hear it.

She knew he had a motive for coming to see her, and finally, he asked what she planned

to tell the tribunal. "The truth," she answered, declining his request that she speak to his lawyer. But he also seemed very glad just to see her again, and before she knew it, he was working on the case. It felt familiar, being able to bounce ideas back and forth with him, and she felt so good that it didn't even cross her mind that DI Knight might be aware of what she felt for him.

They returned to London just a day before the meeting that would determine whether Inspector Lynley would keep his job. Barbara dressed carefully, wanting to look as professional as her limited wardrobe would allow. She thought she did well; sticking closely to what she had determined was" the truth" - Inspector Lynley had protected a woman and her unborn child from a killer; the suspect was not injured; surely that was "reasonable force." One of the questioners asked, "Was the Inspector in control?" She pondered that for a moment, and said, firmly, "Yes, I think so," pushing from her mind the image of his face contorted with rage. When she left, he was there, waiting his turn, and he thanked her. "Barbara, I could never have asked for a better colleague – or friend." With those words in her ears, she went out to wait, and found herself face to face with –

"Helen?"

"Hello, Barbara. How do you think it went up there?"

She collected herself. "He just went in," she said.

Helen smiled. "Would you like a coffee while we wait?"

"Yeah, good idea." They picked up their coffees from a street vendor and went to sit on the edge of a wall.

"You looked surprised to see me," Helen said. "Didn't Tommy tell you I was back, that we're together?"

Barbara answered with her old mantra, "we don't really talk about personal things."  
"Oh?" Helen sipped at her coffee, and then looked directly at her husband's partner. "Barbara, one of the neighbors told me that you were seen several times coming out of the house – OUR house – in the mornings, either with Tommy or driving off in your car which had been there all night."

"That was work," Barbara said uncomfortably.

"So Tommy said, and he also said you stayed in the guest room when the two of you had been working late."

"That's exactly where I stayed." Barbara was feeling indignant as this conversation went on. "Alone."

"Yes," Helen said. "I believe you, and I believed Tommy. But now that I'm back home, I'd rather that you work at the office. Tommy has said he would try not to work so late anymore."

"Good" Barbara nodded, "I could do with less of that too." She thought she sounded calm, but was very angry at the implication and Helen's smugness.

Just then, they saw Inspector Lynley walking towards them. "I'm cleared!" Helen ran to him and threw her arms around him, and as he hugged her, he smiled at Barbara and mouthed "thank you." She smiled back. "Well done, sir." And then she walked off, calling back "See you tomorrow then."

He watched her walk away, then turned to his wife. "I think we should ask Barbara to join us." Helen pouted. "Oh Tommy, she would feel we were patronizing her, thinking she was going to be alone."

"She will be alone," he retorted, "and I hate that, after all she's done for me. For us," he added hastily. "She saved my career."

"Well, it's too late, she's gone," Helen said, with a hint of her old petulance. "And I thought we were going to enjoy being together. We both have the jobs we want, and things are good between us. Come on, darling." "Yes, you're right," he said, thinking that he had to be careful with this new Helen, warmer and more loving. She was his wife, and he loved her, he was sure of it. He would not hurt her, nor disappoint her again. But he couldn't help thinking of the woman who had walked away. In the years they had worked together, he had often thought "I love this woman," when Barbara would tease or mock him, making him laugh. He had occasionally put an arm round her shoulders, but there was that one time he had actually held her close as she calmed down after facing a gun. He had kissed the top of her head, overwhelmed by waves of feelings – relief that she hadn't been shot, compassion, deep affection. Love? When she told him off for giving her advice on how to invest her compensation money; when she confessed that she preferred working with him, he'd had that thought – "I love this woman!" It was an easy, cheerful thought, unlike the doubts he often had about his wife. But he reminded himself that he had to put those thoughts aside and focus on making his marriage a success.

As for Barbara, as she walked away, she told herself that this was always her wish for him, that he would be happy with Helen, but she couldn't help worrying that his heart might be broken again. She remembered the night he had come to her flat, when they talked, not about a case, but about themselves. When he had questioned whether he loved Helen as Narima had loved her husband, she had thought "the way I love you?" But she said nothing, and now, until he was promoted, he'd still be her partner, still in her life, still her reason for getting up in the morning, and that would be enough. It had to be.

#

Some days later, Barbara's bell rang unexpectedly and when she opened the door, she was surprised to see Denton there, carrying a parcel.

"Mr. Denton! What on earth are you doing here?" Her warm smile took the sting out of the words. He smiled back, somewhat ruefully. "Lady Helen asked me to find any things you might have left in the guest room and to bring them to you." He held out the parcel.

"Oh! Well, thank you. I think." She took it and beckoned him in. "Can I give you a cup of something? Tea? Coffee? " She smiled again. "To make up for those delicious breakfasts you gave me?"

He hesitated. "A cup of tea would be fine," he said, following her into her small kitchen and seating himself at the table. As they sipped their tea, Denton seemed to be struggling with something. "Miss Havers, I just want to tell you that I'm sorry about all this. I always enjoyed having you at the house, and frankly, so did his lordship. I know that you were working. I was surprised when her ladyship asked what I thought, and I did my best to convince her. I hope you aren't offended."

"I'll survive," she said. They shook hands and after he left, she took the parcel to her bedroom and put her few things on the bed. She had to smile to see how carefully her clothes had been laundered and folded. "Mr. Denton," she thought, "what a treasure" and then her heart stopped to see Lynley's pajama top at the bottom of the bag. "He knows," she thought, "Mr. Denton knows."

#

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